Happy Thanksgiving
by jesusfoodsex
Summary: Castiel makes dinner. ;P


I got uber bored on the drive home from college and I thought this idea where Cas wants to cook and he knows just where to look for the ability. Then I got home, and thought, "Hey, let's just make a Thanksgiving fic."

spoilers through I guess 6x07. bit o crack, but not so much.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Castiel searches through Jimmy's memories. There has to be something in there about cooking - Jimmy was cooking when Castiel had asked him to prove his faith.

He wanted Dean to be happy for once since there wasn't much to be cheerful about. Sam's missing soul, Lisa cutting him out, and working for Crowley was all pretty shitty. He hadn't exactly treated Dean to well upon their last meeting. Dean did save the world, and for that, Castiel did owe him something.

So maybe Thanksgiving dinner was a weird stepping stone. He knew the Winchesters never really celebrated, but they had a lot to be thankful for - they were still alive for Father's sake.

Jimmy's memories supplied the traditional menu for such a meal - Turkey, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, gravy, cranberry sauce, and something called "stuffing." Oh, and pumpkin pie.

Perhaps Dean would approve.

The boys were out hunting, on the tail of another Alpha, no doubt. But, Castiel just went to the local supermarket (the only one open this time of night before Thanksgiving morning), procured the items necessary, and set out to making dinner in the middle of the night in their motel room, which had a kitchen. Real five star quality.

Several hours later, when all that was left was to pull the turkey out of the oven and the light of dawn was breaking through, the Winchesters pulled up in the Impala. Dean tensed as he saw lights in the room, and Sam just all out barged in, gun raised, and even shot at Castiel, who had just pulled the turkey out and was holding it outstretched towards them. Sam missed the bird, but both brothers were more than mildly confused at the sight that was greeting them.

"Cas? What's going on?" Dean said, throwing his duffel on the bed he had deemed his.

Castiel looked at them seriously, "Exactly what it looks like, Dean. I made the traditional Thanksgiving meal."

Dean looked as if he were dealing with a child, and not an Angel of the Lord, "I can see that. What I mean is why? Why are you here playing house when Soulless and I are out risking our asses to help a demon find prime real estate?"

Castiel frowned. He realized it was completely ridiculous, but he was taking a break from being Heaven's bitch. Raphael still hadn't found a new vessel, and things had settled a bit upstairs in his absence. Also, Dean and Sam didn't need his help all the time, so if he wanted to do something random and nice for them, then he would.

"We all need a break, Dean." Sam to the rescue. Castiel nodded agreement.

Dean hated being outnumbered, but Soulless Sam had figured out just how well the puppy dog eyes worked on Dean, and he had no reserves about using it. Castiel followed suit, and Dean gave in with a sigh.

"Fine. Is it really Thanksgiving already?"

Castiel nodded. "There are signs up all over town."

Castiel was the only one to pray silently before they all dug into the buffet, but it didn't bother him. He found his use of Jimmy's memories pretty decent, since the food was not bad at all. Dean looked as if he were in metaphorical Heaven.

After the meal, Sam excused himself for a walk, and Dean, reluctantly letting his brother go, offered Castiel a beer. They stood outside, leaning against the Impala in the snow.

Castiel opened his mouth to speak of Sam's condition, but Dean sensed it, and interrupted, "I... I don't want to think about it. Not... not right now."

They finished the beers in silence, and Castiel turned to Dean, to hand him the empty bottle before disappearing, but Dean leaned in and kissed him.

It was a soft, chaste, "first kiss"-y kiss. The kind that Dean probably hasn't given since he was a young teen. Castiel, God-knows-how-old Angel of the Lord, was stunned speechless.

Dean grinned sheepishly, "For dinner," he said, taking the bottle from Castiel's hand.

He disappeared, leaving Dean alone while the snow fell softly in the morning light.


End file.
